


Elf, by anonymous

by Naegling



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Fantastic Racism, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, Misunderstandings, Something both humorous and horrible
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-02-20
Packaged: 2019-03-21 15:34:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13743951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Naegling/pseuds/Naegling
Summary: It made him angry, inexplicably, and disproportionately so. To see someone so beautiful, drawn as if they were ugly.





	Elf, by anonymous

Gimli was waiting outside a shop, his pipe lit, leaning against the wall. The shop sold small trinkets of Dwarven design. However, they were made mostly by the Mannish apprentices from Dale and held little interest for him.   
 Legolas, however seemed determined to look at everything the market place held before entering the mountain itself. 

Not that Gimli minded, the detour gave him the opportunity to smoke, in the early hours with the first gentle rays of the sun warming him. 

The marketplace would soon be full of men, but for now (in this section at least) Dwarven traders were setting up shop near the very roots of the mountain. Most of the shops were simple tents or small impermanent wooden structures. This one however, was one of the few that was made of stone, built long ago hewn out of the craggy outcrop of rock, almost indistinguishable at a distance from the landscape itself. 

It had been here as long as he could remember and repurposed many times.   
He took a few steps away, observing it silently. 

That was when he saw it, and his lip curled in disgust.

Hung on the wall among various advertisements of nearby shops and announcements of open positions in the local guilds was a piece of parchment with naught but a drawing. 

It was a wood elf, but drawn in such a way that was meant to have a comical effect. 

The low slope of the nose bridge was emphasised, and this distorted the features of the face. The familiar profile disproportionate, and strange. 

It made him angry, inexplicably, and disproportionately so. To see someone so beautiful, drawn as if they were ugly. 

The narrow eyes beneath their folded lids had been reduced to slanted, squinting things. Shining hair, dark and sleek as liquid was featured as sharp lines protruding from a lumpen skull. Pointed ears, not leaf like, but over large and misshapen were sketched above the jaw line.   
Pointed canines, by the imagination of the artist had become two rows of long sharp teeth emerging out of the wide mouth, like jagged knives 

The length of the arms was so exaggerated that the knobby limbs hung nearly to the ground. The elf's long slender fingers had been made into something grotesque.

Worst of all perhaps, were the crude weapons he held aloft and the wide, wicked smile he wore meant to put undue emphasis on his perceived savagery, his delight in warfare. As well as the skill he lacked in metalwork and the creation of arms. 

It was just a harmless (if rather rude) picture, drawn by a callous youth. Gimli had seen others like it, he had seen much worse for that matter.   
   
A year ago, he would have paid it no mind, or perhaps he might have laughed.   
But for all he did to quell his anger, he could find no humor in it now. 

It was just a picture, and it should not make him feel this way. It should not be able to make his stomach churn or his insides twist. He should not feel ill when he looked at it. 

But he did, and that sickish nauseating feeling was turned to rage again.   
At his people who saw fit to make such things and think so little of them, at himself perhaps. 

"Gimli?" A voice said from behind him, interrupting his thoughts. An Elven voice. 

He started, and turned shifting himself so as to cover the offending portrait with his head.   
Rage becoming shame. He was embarrassed of his people, who boasted of their skill, their artistry, but could not even capture the stark, comely face of a wood elf. Then he was ashamed of himself, for having ever thought such an image was acceptable or even funny. 

He looked down, at the road, and he knew Legolas could see the top of the picture; his own height not being great enough to obscure it completely from view. 

He swallowed, and he cleared his throat, but words, for once were lost to him. He hadn't wanted Legolas to see, hadn't wanted him to be confronted with this perception of his kin. He did not want his friend to have this impression of his people or himself. He knew of course that Legolas was surely aware of what misinformed Dwarves might think of his people. Just as he knew the folk of the Greenwood held their prejudice against his own.   
Yet he had hoped to avoid anything so blunt and offensive as this, during their first visit to Erebor.   
It was a shame he had to see it, but there it was just above Gimli's head plain to see. The scorn and contempt naked to the eye, almost innocent in it's ignorance, it's cruelty. 

He did not look up, but was aware of Legolas reaching over him and pulling the piece of parchment from the wall. 

"I" Gimli said, before he swallowed again. Unsure of what he meant to say, or why he meant to say it. 

"I'm sorry." 

He looked up after that; he may have held foolish beliefs in his youth, but he was no coward. 

Legolas looked down at him, his brows drawn together in confusion. 

"Why?" 

Gimli shook his head, 

"Who ever drew that, that vile thing is not here and probably did not believe they were wrong to draw it, so I sought to apologise for them. An overstep on my part, perhaps, I did not draw it and can not be held accountable for every slight of my people, no one can. But it brings me shame, and I wish you had not seen it. No, I wish it had not been made. I am sorry it was, though I had no part in it. But no, I may have you see, had I never had a change of heart.

"Gimli"

 "I never questioned such things when I saw them before, nor did I seek to dissuade others from creating them, and therefore cannot be absolved all responsibility." 

"Gimli" 

"And then I sought to hide it from you, to present a more flattering picture of Erebor. We are friends, and I should only be honest with you, as you have been with me."

"Gimli, I"

"I know I needn't shield you from reality; you are not a child, of course I know that. Nor do I believe a single unflattering portrayal not even created by myself would be enough to do any serious harm to the alliance we intend to forge, or our friendship, furthermore..."

"Gimli" Legolas raised his hand as if to halt the flow of words. 

"Yes?" 

"Gimli, whatever are you talking about? It is only a drawing of an orc."

Legolas shook his head, and silken, unbound hair brushed his shoulders. 

"You are really strange sometimes" he said, and smiled fondly.   
  

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> Comments make my day, my year, my life.


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